The sun lazily sloped toward the horizon. The shadows of the trees grew longer and longer. The heat gradually subsided. A fresh breeze began to blow, and the trees rustled their leaves. Birds circled in flight, now flapping their wings, now freezing, now soaring in the air.
The yellow-eyed daisies that grew on the meadow swayed and raised their heads higher, as if trying to hear better what the birds were singing above. A warm summer rain had passed, and the not-yet-dried droplets glistened on the grass like silvery beads. A speckled hen led her chicks out for a walk. In the far corner of the meadow, she scratched up worms from the damp earth for them.
The chicks crowded around their mother waiting for prey, and chirped with pleasure in thin little voices:
Peep-peep-peep, peep-peep-peep.
Two chicks simultaneously spotted a crawling worm and one of them cried out:
That's my worm! I saw it first!
No. I found it!
The second one replies.
My worm!
No, mine!
While they argued, the worm crawled away to a safe place.
The chicks rushed to catch it, but it had vanished without a trace.
Meanwhile, one disobedient foolish chick wandered far from his mother hen and, finding himself alone, got lost in the thick grass and began to chirp pitifully.
This chirping was heard by the neighbor's cat, who was warming herself in the sun under a bush. She looked around, crouched down on her belly and began to creep along the bushes toward the little yellow chick, who looked like a blooming yellow dandelion. At that moment, no one was nearby, and nothing prevented the cat from carrying out her wicked intention. There she froze, only slightly twitching the tip of her long tail. Apparently, she was preparing for the decisive pounce.
But it turned out the cat was not completely alone on the meadow at that time. Nearby, in an old branching tree, sat a crow. She was always aware of all the events happening in the area. She knew everything about everyone and had even composed a song about herself:
I'm a crow, I know everything,
I can do it all, I understand.
I'll tell you too,
I'll show you how to do things.
And now she saw everything, and seemed to be waiting to see what would happen next. Or perhaps she herself wanted to steal the chick—such things happen. Who knows what the black bandit was planning... But suddenly she let out a piercing caw, flew off the branch and lunged at the ginger cat.
The cat jumped in surprise, the fur on her back stood on end, her tail rose like a pipe, and she took flight: she slipped into the thickets of dense bushes.
And what about the crow? Now she will apparently return to the chick...
However, no, flapping her wide wings, she made a circle over the meadow and flew away.
Meanwhile, the speckled hen suddenly realized that not all her little ones were near her. She clucked anxiously, ran around the entire meadow, looked under every bush, and running up to the thickets of tall grass, saw that someone was moving there.
The chick, hearing his mother hen's call, parted the grass with his feet and peeked out timidly. And seeing his mother, he rushed to her with all his might. Mother hen scolded him, but quickly stopped being angry and scratched up a fat worm for her little yellow chick.
Read fairy tales and you will always learn how to behave and who you can count on in difficult times.
